Miroslaw listened to Master's response with great interest. A look into the past of the Quick that Miroslaw knew brought a great, jarring blow on his heart. It seemed the crude and heartless character that the captain sported was one very much nurtured by his experiences. His loss was insurmountable by the majority of people who walked the same ground. Miroslaw knew all too well the difficulty that came with attempts at burying a past riddles with misfortune. A past like Quick's inevitably left a stain on the soul that no amount of bleaching could remove.
As the Master's story continued, the only emotion that came forth from Miroslaw was one of sorrow. He felt pity for the gruff mercenary captain; an emotion he never thought would be directed at Quick. It was this kind of suffering that Miroslaw wished he could rid the world of. It was an impossible task, especially in light of recent events giving way to the reality that the Soren had been doing everything wrong. His actions alone have caused a great many people varying degrees of a similar pain to the one Grayson has experienced.
The account left Miroslaw at a complete loss for words. He knew no words would unburden the atmosphere that now surrounded them to any degree. He let the silence be filled with nothing but the sound of the horses trot for as long as the Master would permit it. Miroslaw head sank from where it was held only moments before the emotional story.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
"I would like to think, there was some good in him. A little light in the dark that keeps the evil at bay."
The Master said nothing more for a little while as he seemed to admire the horizon, or maybe he simply didn't want to dull the trip with talk of atrocities committed and the sort of people they forge. Grayson was not the first Quatrian to be wronged, and he won't be the last. Perhaps the saddest thought of all was what he could have been, were it all different, a creature of his strength.
It was during the quiet that Miroslaw could take notice of a rather curious object saddled to the side of Master's horse; a bundle of elegant looking poles whose ends stuck out from under the tarp.
"A question, if I may, Miroslaw. What is your take on perspective?"
The question appeared to bring a lightness to The Master's voice, as if the response to his this inquiry never tired him.
"Take a look behind us and see Wistvale. Would you say we are close, or far from her?"
At least twenty minutes had passed since they left the city.
Master's final statement lighten Miroslaw more than he probably intended. It made Miroslaw think about his past experiences with Quick. The way he seemed ready to sacrifice himself to save Neko and how he still payed Miroslaw. Perhaps that was the light Master was speaking of. Or perhaps, he knew he would somehow live through the incident and payed Miroslaw for an occasion like this one when he might be able to use a good willed Soren. Miroslaw would probably never know the real answer.
Noticing the poles, Miroslaw would attempt to examine them a bit more. They sure looked elegant. What might their use have been? His attempt would be ended with a question from his new traveling companion. The question left Miroslaw confused as to how to reply. The next words would bright some light as to what he meant, almost as if he knew Miroslaw would have been lost. As he looked back over his shoulder, the town would be a good distance out. Turning his head back forward, he would reply, “Well, considering our destination, I would say we are still fairly close. I guess perception would depend on the situation.” The words came with a simple shrug. “What would you say?” He questioned, wondering what his answer to the same question might be.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
A strange sensation overcame Miroslaw in the blink of an eye, like a wave washing over him. He felt pushed, almost dragged along a current that took him from where he was to where his mighty steed stood now. When he opened his eyes the scene before him was unfamiliar, yet they were still on the road.
"I say we made good progress," the Master said, amusingly.
"The Way of Seeing, Yìshù Guāngǎn, is the art which I taught to Grayson. To see not what is, but what could be, to open up your mind to an innumerable amount of possibilities. It is through this art that he can manipulate the weapon I'm sure has vexed you so."
Wistvale was nowhere to be seen behind Miroslaw, not even a spec. Before him lay the quiet town of Jezebel and the Cragtooth mountains that rise behind it.
As the feeling consumed Miroslaw, he did not know what was happening. Then, suddenly the feeling of being yanked through time and space subsided. With a quick glance, he knew he was no longer where he was only a moment ago. With a glance over his shoulder, Wistvale was nowhere in sight. His gaze turned to Master. Was this his doing? Was it magic or something different? Where were they now? Questions consumed him.
But Master was cheery, and he began explaining. The Way of Seeing. Opening of the mind. What did he mean? How does that relate to the way in which Quick is able to control Hydra? Quickly, Miroslaw was realizing that Master seemed to know more than Miroslaw had thought about Quick's and Miroslaw's relationship. He assumed quick had informed him, but there was no way of really knowing. Beyond this, Master seemed to possess some kind of unique and teachable skill. This prospect intrigued Miroslaw greatly.
Miroslaw really didnt know where he was. Frankly, he was more curious as to a simpler explanation of what Master was trying to explain. It seems Master did not understand that Miroslaw was, more or less, simple. “So. You just used this “Way of Seeing” to bring us to where we now stand? Is that not magic? And where exactly are we?” He barraged the master with questions, though he was not worried about anything. He was just curious.
Last Edit: Jan 24, 2015 7:40:23 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
The Master laughed as he stroked his beard, never failing to be amused by those who witnessed his 'magic.'
"To think that it is magic would be to solidify your mind's perception of things. Magic has rules, limits, it can not be as open as the great sky permits. I do not know where we are, Miroslaw, but I knew we would always end up here. I just chose to be there now."
It was a strange concept to put into words, it likely made just as much sense as in his own native language.
"Time is an ocean, Miroslaw. The black sky is but a wisp of cloud, and your mind is an albatross soaring through all the possibilities. You must be willing to ask yourself questions you never permitted. Like, how did I know your horse was going to push you off?"
As finished, Miroslaw's great steed did as The Master predicted, and stood proudly to where the half giant was horizontal with the ground before falling off. The mount trotted in a circle before coming back to Miroslaw's side.
"Would it had done that if I hadn't said anything? Or would you still have been on your saddle?"
Last Edit: Jan 27, 2015 14:47:46 GMT -5 by Serenity
The Master seemed to claim that what had just happened was not magic. Rather, As Miroslaw was understanding the words, and that was scarcely, what happened was some will of the mind. It was all very confusing. Miroslaw listened while trying to make sense of what happened. Was the sun still in the same position in the sky? Had time actually passed or had they actually stepped through space itself? Either way, it was an amazing skill.
Then, the Master seemed to speak in riddles. Miroslaw really couldn't keep up with what he was trying to say. It ended with a simple question that puzzled Miroslaw. He was sitting in his saddle... but only for a moment. The beast did indeed push him off onto the ground with a thud. What had just happened? What was going on?! He sat up as the beast came back and his head turned to look at the Master. What had he done? There must have been a trick. He was merely using simple tricks! There was not other explanation.
“So, you are telling me that asking a ridiculous question can actually make things happen? That is impossible.” He stated plainly as he made his way back to his feet. The entire concept was absurd to Miroslaw. Either the master had done something to the horse to initiate the event, or it was some kind of crazy coincidence. He looked at his horse, contemplating for a moment before deciding to just grab the reigns and walk with the horse instead of remounting.
Last Edit: Jan 28, 2015 22:03:39 GMT -5 by Miroslaw
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.